Blood, Bone and Bond
by GDpup
Summary: An ancient magic brings together four champions to fight the dark lord. But the bond brings with it more than just the strength to fight.
1. Chapter 1

The night sky was cloudless, and the stars gleamed with an odd brilliance, or at least the magical ceiling of the Great Hall shoed them to be, or it was possibly due to the fact that for the first time in months, since that night in the graveyard, Harry felt a genuine smile creep up to his face. The final first year had been sorted and the students around him were cheering madly and chanting for food. Harry returned his gaze from the night sky and focused on the head table where the teachers sat. Dumbledore rose quietly from his chair, and without the need for any more of a cue than that, the entire hall grew silent before the headmaster had even reached the podium.

"Before we begin tonight's delicious feast, there are, of course, a few announcements to be made. First I must sadly inform you, that our beloved Professor Hagrid will not be joining us this term. Harry, Ron and Hermione shot each other a quick glance. Where had Hagrid gone, and what was he doing? Harry was positive it was something to do with the Order, as their various attempts at eavesdropping over the summer had hinted as such.

"For the duration of the term all Care of Magical Creatures classes will be taught by Professor Charles Weasley." At that moment, a door at the side of the head table swung open and Charlie Weasley stepped out. Harry of course had met Charlie at the Quidditch world cup and then again during the first task last year, when he came with the dragons, they had become quick mates, especially since they were both seekers for Gryffindor.

"Professor Weasley only graduated from Hogwarts himself a short time ago, but has already done fine work in the study of dragons, and in his short career has already become a well acknowledged expert in Dragon handling and breeding. Along with his study of dragons, Professor Weasley has published a good number of studies of various other magical creatures, and is no doubt one of the best suited wizards to take up the post in Professor Hagrid's absence."

Harry's jaw was on the floor for the entirety of Dumbledore's introduction. It was until the overwhelming cheering from the Gryffindor table, which was appropriate given Charlie's legendary status within the house that Harry managed to pull himself together and spin around to face Ron. His best friend simply sat there with a smug grin on his face.

"I've been holding that secret in all summer just to get to see the look on your face." Ron finally laughed out.

"Ronald!" Hermione barked, slapping him in the back of his head, Harry too gave him a rather stiff punch in the arm, but Ron just kept on laughing, obviously Harry's gob smacked face was worth the physical abuse.

As the Gryffindor table settled down, and Charlie took his place at the head table, Dumbledore turned again and addressed his students.

" As for the defense against the dark arts position, the talented Miss Dolores Umbridge will be assuming the post." He took a slight breath as a few students clapped politely for the toad-like women in pink robes at the end of the table. Dumbledore was about to continue, when the squat women stood and cleared her throat. As she walked forward, apparently to make a speech, Harry's attention wandered back to Charlie. He was excited to get a chance to talk to him; he could give him some help with quidditch after a year off. Harry wondered if Charlie would be staying in the castle or out in Hagrid's hut. Then Charlie suddenly looked away from Umbridge, and caught Harry's eye as he was staring, but only smiled and rolled his eyes slightly. Harry stifled a laugh and turned back to the table where Hermione was listening to the new professors diatribe with an increasingly disgusted expression on her face. Ron on the other hand was massaging his rumbling stomach and staring at the empty platter on the table longingly.

Finally, Dolores umbridge finished her speech and stepped back to the table.

"Thank you, professor Umbridge, and now, without further delay, tuck in." The plates on the tables throughout the hall were suddenly stacked high with food. The best food of the year in Harry's opinion, much better than the end of term feast. For a few minutes nothing could be heard in the great hall except the clanging of silverware as the entire student body tore into the feast the way only a group of hungry teenagers could.

"So, have a good summer?" Dean Thomas asked to no one in particular. Everyone's eating had slowed down and the hall had begun to fill with chatter. Harry, Ron and Hermione spoke vaguely of enjoying the summer and being excited for school nonetheless, they couldn't tell them about the order or the ministry.

"I had a blast" someone said, The entire group of fifth years looked down the table and stared in sudden shock and realization that the well tanned and quite muscular boy in front of them was Neville Longbottom. Seamus was the first to speak.

"Neville, what happened to you?" That was the question on everyone's mind. Neville sat before them, a very changed man.

"Well, you know how I've been taking a shining in herbology?" He began, "Well I've been studying privately with professor Sprout and she's Muggleborn you know."

"Yes." Hermione said with a short nod. Harry gave an inquisitive look to which she responded: " She was the one who came to my house to talk to my parents and I about me being a witch and coming to Hogwarts. Who better than a Muggleborn teacher to know exactly how to approach the situation?"

"Right, well her family has a farm that her brother's run, and asked if I wanted to spend the summer working there. Professor Sprout told me that the best herbologists have to know not only about the properties of magical plants but non-magical ones as well. Gran was actually thrilled, with all the craziness happening at the end of last year, the chance for me to disappear into the muggle world was a dream come true."

Harry nodded as he accepted the explanation. A summer of hard labor and steady meals had done Neville good. His arms looked tan and his uniform seemed tight around his arms and chest, rather than his midsection as it had the year before. His face had lost all trace of baby fat; in fact there was even slight stubble along his now strongly defined jaw. Neville had grown up. Harry sat back and observed the rest of his friends. They were all growing up. This was the first time it had hit him, like photographs the memories of the first years they had been flashed in front of his eyes. Things were changing.

Sadly, as all good things must, the feast ended. The food slowly vanished and the candles dimmed slightly. Dumbledore rose once more to bid them good night and dismissed the students to their dormitories.

As Harry marched up to Gryffindor tower with the rest of his House, he felt, as he had felt on prior September 1sts, a sense of hope and excitement fill him, and as they climbed through the portrait hole and into the warm common room, he was once again filled with the sensation of being home.

From the Window in his office, Dumbledore peered up at the stars, tracing their patterns with tiny motions of his eyes and fingertips. It seemed that the stars were gleaming oddly. Bodies that should have been dull or indistinguishable shone with a mysterious brilliance, twisting old familiar constellations into strange shapes that were just as familiar, if not much more disconcerting to a wizard like Dumbledore who prayed they read well for his side of these things, and not the other. History was full of evidence that generations were just as often forged on the opposite sides of coins.

A cry from Fawkes gave Dumbledore enough warning to turn back to his office, and place a ward over everything around the tight circle that not a moment later was filled by a bolt of lightning in the center of the room. It grew more intense, and there was another cry from Fawkes and a rustling of wings, but the light had grown too bright for him to see where his phoenix had flown. Dumbledore could feel the brilliant energy pushing and prodding at his ward. Dumbledore pushed back harder, throwing more force into the barriers. There was a loud crack and a puff of smoke as the light vanished. In it's place, on the floor was a small scrap of parchment that was singed rather badly. With only a twitch of his eyebrow the scrap levitated and drifted to stop a few inches from Dumbledore's eyes and read

_Albus, _

_Those are some truly spiff wards you have, quite nice actually. Why, I naturally did all I could to force my way in like I used to, but you've seen to given me a run for my money. Good show. Now do be a good friend and let me in proper, you remember how I like my tea of course._

_, Yours forever in blood, bone and bond_

_Nick_

Albus Dumbledore rolled his eyes as he crumpled the note and waved his wand, adjusting the castle wards to allow his old friend in.

"Nick Flamel, it has been some time. Do forgive me for not recognizing your magical signature before I tightened the wards. These are dark times my friend.

"Of course." was all Nicholas Flamel managed to say before he tore across the room and snatched Dumbledore's right arm. "It's still there right? I haven't been able to feel it in so long. I think, I might have forgotten, or rather it forgot me." Albus nodded slowly and calmly as he stared into his friend's time worn face. Of course it was weak, they were all that was left. All that was left that was still a part of their bond. Albus pressed his wrist to Nicholas' and felt the sudden warmth blossom there and spread up his arm. Their bodies seemed to pulse slightly and their faces were relaxed and serene.

Nicholas stepped back after a moment. The pulsing stopped but the warmth remained. "Thank you, brother. Thank you Albus."

"I fear that there is more than the urge to feel the bond flare bringing you here." Dumbledore summoned two easy chairs, a small table and a tea set with cream sugar and a small vial of vanilla extract. "As you know, I am quite famous for my sweet-tooth and even I cannot stand the things you do to your tea."

"I missed you too Albus." Nick replied with a smirk. " I've come because of the stars, you know what they point to. What you might not know is that new brothers have been seen." Nick reached into the folds of his robes and produced a crystal sphere in which rested a prophecy. " I was given the prophecy in person by a gifted seer who also enjoys performing opera. I had front row seats, and she caught my eye in the middle of her aria and bam the vision hits. She was quite mad with me afterwards. I don't blame her either. Poor thing, it was her opening night. " He gave Albus one of his classic winks and continued, " But you're mentioned as well." He didn't need to say any more, and simply handed the orb to Dumbledore. Being a subject of the prophecy, he could view its contents without having to shatter it.

The crystal warmed in his hands and began to glow. A voice sounded in his ear, a voice that trembled on the edge of insanity. Sobbing, screaming, sometimes barely understandable through clenched teeth. Nick had made a joke of it, but this woman had suffered through every word of this divine script. Tellings of the future always took their toll, but this massive piece of destiny held the power to bring about the end of magic itself. Not even Sibyl Trelawney's prophecy concerning the dark lord had held so terrible a gravity.

_This is the night the four shall rise._

_The stars themselves sought them out:_

_The shield rises in one already sacrificed_

_The Sword, a man without fear to guide the way_

_The Lord, whom they serve, hidden for years from the fight _

_The last is the sage burning darkly apart. _

_Bound they will be when the stars deem it so. _

_Prepared by the sword of years long ago._

_They will destroy the vessel of darkness or darkness will consume the stars themselves._

Dumbledore looked up from the crystal and into the soft eyes of his friend. "Our time has come. Or rather, their time." His eyes glazed slightly as he allowed himself access to those memories deemed too precious even for a pensieve.

"The bond will awaken in them tonight but they must find each other and seal the bond themselves before we can step in." Flamel's voice rang out, pulling Albus from his reverie.

"Of course, it won't be long though, the stars didn't give us much warning. They're in a hurry. We won't have long to train them, and with the return of Tom Riddle, it seems things are coming to a head." Dumbledore spoke quickly, his mind jumping months ahead in planning.

"This is bigger than that. The Four are not ordained for just any war or struggle among wizards. This Voldemort nasty is only the surface if you ask my opinion."

Albus and Nicholas shared a sad glance. For the two of them who had lived so long, and seen so much, to witness this all too clear moment of the cyclical nature of man was almost heartbreaking.

"I had always hoped we'd be the last ones needed, that we would finally get it right. " Dumbledore whispered softly. After a moment more of grief, Albus Dumbledore smiled up at his friend and rose from the chair. "That's all the business that can be done for the matter at this hour. So why not a toast." He whipped a tray with two tumblers brandy out of thin air, and raised one.

"To Brothers."

"In Blood," Flamel cheered, raising his own glass.

"And Bone" Albus continued.

"And Bond." The said finally together, before clinking their glasses and downing the entire drink in one swallow. They spent the night Speaking of old times and planning for the very near future.

The snake coiled up piling it's massive body on top of itself, Growing past the size of absurdity into the realm of fear. Laughter echoed around the giant serpent like thunder. There curled up in a ball at the base of the snake's massive coils was Neville Longbottom. He was very aware he was in a nightmare, but couldn't wake himself up. He glanced up in time to see the monster draw its head back and open its jaws for a strike. Neville quickly looked back at the ground, expecting to feel the pain any second. But it never came. The laughter died suddenly, and Neville looked up to see a brilliant figure standing over him with a massive shield. The snake, now normal sized had struck the other side and lay crumpled on the ground. The figure with the shield stepped aside and another figure appeared, this one carried a glowing staff. The figure knelt down and gently pulled Neville to his feet. Finally a third figure appeared carrying a dazzling sword. He pointed the sword at the snake, which had uncrumpled itself and was once again growing in size, preparing for an attack. Neville cowered away, but the figures reached out, touching both his arms and the center of his back.

Neville felt their light seeping into him, and suddenly he wasn't afraid anymore. He felt the power growing within him. Instinctively he raised his right arm and a bolt of terrible white light ripped through the snake. It blared stronger and Neville's wrist began to burn from the intensity, but he couldn't lower his arm or stop the light.

Neville could feel his own fear rising up, this power was too much, he couldn't control it, and it would be the end of him. The light flared even brighter still, and Neville sat up in his bed with a cry.

By the time Neville realized that he was safe in his bed in Gryffindor tower, and that he had managed not to wet the bed this time, he had forgotten every detail of the dream, every detail except the white light. Neville felt as though he were still seeing spots from being blinded by it. He was hot, and sweaty. His pajamas clung to his skin. He quickly peeled them off and quietly padded through the room and into the shower.

Neville turned on the cold water and slipped under the stream. He gasped at the sudden chill, but quickly got used to the cold and then enjoyed it. He had often taken cold showers after a day out in the fields. He closed his eyes and let the water slide down his face. He didn't notice when the shower nozzle next to the one he was under started to spray. In fact it wasn't until he felt hot water splash onto his feet that he turned and looked.

Harry Potter was curled in a ball, shivering under the spray of steaming water.


	2. Chapter 2

"Harry?" Neville whispered. He bent down, trying to see if his friend was hurt. As he moved toward Harry, Neville felt a sudden tingle run through his spine and up his arm from his wrist. Distracted for a moment, Neville stared at his right arm, specifically at the small white crown that had appeared like a tattoo on his forearm. Where had that come from? His mind flashed to other magical markings, and the first he could come up with was the Dark Mark that appeared on the arms of a Death Eater.

_Have I accidentally become a follower of You-Know-Who? _ Neville shook his head at his own absurdity. _The little crown is obviously nothing like a Dark Mark, and I would have had to be in front of you-know-who, himself to get one. _ An echo of the laughter from his dream rang through his ears, and the Gryffindor"s confidence quaked within him.

Harry let out a soft moan, and Neville's attention was immediately on his friend.

"Harry are you okay, I can't see anything wrong. Was it a nightmare?"

Harry uncurled slightly and looked up at him, emerald eyes searching his. Neville was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that both he and Harry were absolutely naked.

"Yeah, but I can't remember it. Something to do with Voldemort." The boy gasped out between shivers. His eyes never left Neville's, as though he were searching him for something.

_What's going on? _ Neville asked himself. He could sense that Harry was scared and needed help. He could sense the racing pulse running through his friend, and feel the sting of hot water trying to blast away the unnatural chill.

Neville finally worked up the courage to touch Harry. The desire had been there since he saw the boy, but the power behind that urge to reach his hand out had frightened Neville, and stayed his movement.

"I'm' so cold. Can't get warm." Harry teeth were chattering. Neville reached above them and shut off the cold-water tap, and turned another so that they were both under jets of hot water. He then reached down, and before he could think himself out if it placed an open palm on Harry's back.

The effect was immediate. The mysterious tattoo that he had all but forgotten, the white crown, just above his wrist glowed. The warmth that filled him made his spine tingle and his head feel light as air, almost like the times the Sprout boys had gotten him drunk.

Only now his mind was clear. Harry seemed to stop shivering, and Neville could sense that the warm buzz was spreading through his touch into his fellow Gryffindor. Harry's eyes glistened as he slowly uncurled his body.

The two sat opposite each other, under the streams of water, neither moving nor saying anything. Neville stared at Harry Potter with wonder as he continued to feel warmth and energy surge between them.

"Do you know what's happening Harry?" Neville muttered after a few moments. Harry only shook his head, then paused a moment and looked down at his arm.

Neville looked as well and noticed the white mark just above Harry's wrist. Exactly like the mysterious mark he'd woken up with himself, only Harry's was a small shield.

"I have one too." Neville exclaimed, suddenly removing his hand from Harry's back to show him the crown. Both boys gasped at the shock of disconnecting. The bathroom came back into focus and Neville was once again painfully aware of their nudity.

"Well, I'll just grab us our towels then." Neville said awkwardly. He stood, trying to cover his now obviously exposed body, and simultaneously act as though he hadn't a care in the world if Harry saw him naked, like the muggle boys on the farm who would strip down and jump into the pond without hesitation. Neville however, cared a great deal, even more so in this instance than he felt he normally would.

Something had changed between them, Neville Longbottom was sure of this. He grabbed the fluffy red towels from their stand and padded back across the wet tile to Harry. Luckily Harry seemed to have recovered from whatever it was they had just experienced and managed to stand up and shut off the showers.

"Here you go." Neville handed Harry a towel and averted his eyes as they dried themselves. Longbottom turned around, facing away from his classmate and hastily wrapped the towel tight around his waist. He almost let out a sigh of relief at finally being covered. He needed to go to bed. Neville had had enough strange occurrences for one night, and with their first day of O.W.L. level classes already looming, the warm embrace of his bed seemed like the best thing in the world.

Until he took a step away from Harry and was hit in the chest with a sharp pang of guilt and responsibility.

"Neville?" Harry's whisper seemed to drag Neville back around to see Harry, weakly leaning against the tiled wall, his face tight with anxiety and confusion.

"I'll Help." Neville reached out and grabbed Harry's arm. The connection reestablished, and both boys' wrists were aglow. "I have a feeling these are good things. At least they make me feel good. When I touch you I mean. I mean- the marks make it feel good to touch- I mean…"

"I understand." Harry said when Neville had only managed to stammer, and blush bright red. "I think I should stay near you tonight."

A small rush of heat flared in Neville's crotch at the thought of being near Harry, but before he could investigate the strange sensation, or open his mouth to rebut, Harry gripped Neville's wrist firmly and led him out of the baths and back into the bedchamber. Neville's mind scrambled desperately for something to say or do to stop this strange night from continuing, but a stronger deeper instinct within him held his voice, and allowed Harry to lead him to his bed.

Charlie Weasley paced his study with a relentlessness that a mother dragon guarding her brood would be proud of. He had woken suddenly from a nightmare, the details of which now eluded him so completely he was beginning to question if he had even dreamt at all. Now, hours later, with dawn and the first day of classes quickly approaching, Charlie paced in front of the fireplace contemplating two things.

First, that upon waking he discovered a small, white sword magically tattooed to his wrist. Where had it come from? Why was it a sword? Was this some sort of curse he was unaware was cast upon him? Questions tumbled endlessly around his mind. Nothing in his studies could explain the strange brand, although his studies were almost exclusively dedicated to behavioral observations of dangerous magical creatures. He had become an active member of the Order of the Phoenix, albeit a slightly auxiliary member due to his distance from Britain. He had been trained to spot Dark Magic and defend himself and others against it.

But this doesn't feel Dark. The mark itself seemed noble enough, a white sword. Not a very traditional symbol of darkness. It also seemed to have no active effect on him, or his magic. If anything he felt a much vaster power within himself. For the thousandth time since he woke, Charlie pushed the thought aside and moved to the other thoughts that were bothering him.

Charlie had woken not only with a strange mark on his arm, but also the distinct urge to leave his own chambers on the third floor, and go to Gryffindor Tower.

"But that's completely ridiculous." Charlie spoke aloud to himself, a habit he picked up while working alone in the field. " I'm a teacher now, and not even the head of house. I miss it up there… but that's not why I want to go."

Charlie couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that the urge to see his old house did not stem from nostalgia. There was a distinct magical pull in the back of his mind that he could only assume was connected to the strange brand. Which was why he must fight this urge whose origins could not be known.

"If this persists through the day, I'll go see Dumbledore. He'll know something."

Charlie turned to the large windows that overlooked the green houses, the lake just past them, where the first rays of sunlight where sparkling across the water. Professor Weasley resigned himself to the very long and tiring day he had ahead of him, and continued to pace.

Draco Malfoy entered the Great Hall for the first breakfast of the term with a very nasty look on his face and worse yet, bags under his eyes.

Pansy had sworn that she couldn't tell he was tired at all, but Draco knew that the sycophantic girl was only interested in winning favor, and possible a very lucrative marriage contract from the slytherin prince. He had sneered at her in the common room and then proceeded to stomp his way up from the dungeons.

Draco barely noticed the rest of the school in the hall eating breakfast. The blonde hightailed it to the slytherin table and promptly filled his plate with sweet rolls and tucked in. He almost succeeded in blocking everything out except for the warm sugary buns, but his classmates decided to, stupidly, ignore his obviously foul mood and bother him.

"Looks like we get the first crack at professor weasel." Blaise drawled from across the table. He passed out copies of the schedules Snape had just handed him.

"I'm Skiving off." Draco announced immediately. " I'm not trudging out into the grounds this morning. They can't make me."

"You don't have to trudge anywhere, Draco, or skiv off either. The class is split half indoor on the third floor and half out on the grounds. Today we're inside."

"Oh." Draco huffed and sat back onto the bench. He moodily stuffed an entire sweet roll in his mouth and gnashed it. The act was very un-Malfoy of him, but Draco had never done well with sleep deprivation.

Breakfast ended with Draco having managed to pout the whole time, and even got a few exasperated sighs in as well. The clock tower chimed, and the slytherin table rose as a unit and quietly fell into formation around their prince and headed up to the third floor.

"As all of you know, I'm professor Weasley and I'll be filling the Care of Magical Creatures post this term. I'm very excited, and have a lot planned for the next few moths, especially for this and the other O.W.L. class. There will be plenty of book work, as a lot of the exam is focused not only on the identification and proper handling of magical creatures, but also the way wizards, utilize, protect and mysticize these creatures."

Draco let out a snort from the back of the classroom. He couldn't help it. The room was full of slytherins and ravenclaws, all of whom had higher intellectual goals that feeding flobberworms, and professor Weasley was practically glowing with excitement as though they all cared deeply about passing this particular O.W.L.

"Was there something funny said Mr. Malfoy? If so please share I'm –" But Professor Weasley's words stopped short for a moment as he met Draco's eyes.

Draco felt it too, the jolt of energy that had shot between them the moment their eyes met. The sensation buzzed in his fingers and toes and sent a chill down his spine. Professor Weasley just stared for a moment, and then tore his eyes away from Draco's gaze.

"Where was I?" The students, including Draco simply stared at the professor curiously, unsure of what had just happened. "Doesn't matter." He continued after a few awkward seconds. " First things first, I want to tell you a bit about how this class will work. As some of you may know, I was quidditch captain for Gryffindor, and even though I don't play anymore, lets just say I have retained a very healthy spirit of competition."

Professor Weasley flicked his wand and a large board appeared in the air at the front of the class, on it were small white squares with every sixth year student's name on its own square, written in ink of the appropriate house colors.

"Here's how this works. You will be ranked. In everything we do in class, or, if you'd rather, everything we do in this class is competitive. So what do you get besides the knowledge that you are better than everyone else? Why, a once in a lifetime opportunity. The top three students from the O.W.L. class and the N.E.W.T. class will be invited to spend the winter holidays working in Romania on the Dragon Breeding Compound. Working everyday with the Dragons themselves. The winners will receive handler training and certification during their stay and let me tell you, there are not many fields in which that certification is not seen as an impressive achievement. "

Charlie paused for a moment in his speech and looked down at the students in front of him. He could have almost laughed at his own sheer brilliance. Charlie had known there would be trouble. Trouble with him being young, and related to current students, especially from the older slytherins. But Charlie's competition already had them drooling in their seats. The slytherins and ravenclaws both craved the status, and the chance to work with the dragons. Draco Malfoy's face had lit up at the mention of the prize. No wonder with his name being what it was.

_Draco Malfoy. _

Something had happened when he met the boy's gaze earlier. The jolt of energy had felt so familiar and yet so strange that he truly didn't know what to make of it. But class had to continue on, and it would have done Charlie no good to drop the ball right when he had them where he wanted them.

"So without further ado, the game is on." He snapped his wand and the board lit up. The name tiles quickly rearranged themselves into four vertical lines by house. "We will now have our first pop quiz."

With another wand flick the tables cleared themselves and every student found a sealed scroll in front of them.

"This quiz is not like an ordinary exam. Normally you would earn a grade based on the number of questions you get right. In this test you will all start with 100% " There are one hundred questions on the test and…" Charlie flicked his wand one more time, summoning a large clock that floated next to the ranking board. "You will have one hundred minutes to complete the test. For every question that is marked wrong and every minute that passes, you will lose one point. So you see. This test is not merely about your knowledge of magical creatures, but also your speed and accuracy. A dragon tamer doesn't have time to sit and ponder about which breeds have poisonous barbs or acid spitting glands when he is being charged."

The tension in the air was thick and electric. Every student in the room, with the exception of Crabbe and Goyle had realized that despite what they might have thought about this subject, this term's Care of Magical Creatures class was not one to take lightly.

"Are we all ready then?" Professor Weasley asked. The class seemed to nod in affirmation as a group, and many students picked up their quills, and poised them over the scroll. " Then begin."

For the next hour and forty minutes, Professor Charles Weasley sat back and watched the class with an evil grin on his face that even the slytherins would later admit would have given Snape a run for his money.

In the end, only Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode were unable to complete their tests before the time was up and their scores locked at zero. Draco himself had been one of the first to finish after only ten minutes.

"Very good Draco. Please wait behind after class." Weasley told him as he handed the completed scroll over. They locked eyes again and another chill rushed through Draco's body. The slytherin froze on the spot and couldn't help but shut his eyes in the pleasure of it. Luckily that seemed to break the strange spell, and Draco managed to keep his eyes closed and return to his seat.

Draco had spent the rest of the test time contemplating the strange sensations he was feeling. The odd connection they seemed to have with the Weasel, and odder still the connection to the mark on his arm. He made up his mind to find a time to talk to Snape about the matter. Surely with his vast knowledge, Snape could identify the curse or whatever this strange magic was and help Draco rid himself of it.

"Alright, Class dismissed. The tests will be scored, and your ranks will be posted on the board outside my office. That way everyone can see."

Charlie watched the class exit the room, and waited until the last student had shut the door behind him before he turned to Draco who was still seated in his desk.

"Come here." Charlie said assertively. He actively avoided looking into Draco's eyes as the blonde walked up to the front of the room. " Hold out your arm."

Draco hesitated a moment. Then decisively, almost proudly lifted his right arm and pulled back the sleeve. There was nothing there.

Charlie watched Draco's face jump quickly through surprise, relief and finally landing on a smug grin. It didn't take a genius to realize that Draco had not expected his arm to look perfectly normal.

"Did you hide it somehow?" Charlie asked innocently.

"No. It's just gone." Draco's face filled with satisfaction, before it fell with horror as he realized what he'd just given away.

Charlie simply laughed as he gently reached out and touched the spot were the mark had been. There was a spark of light and then a gentle glow, as Draco's mark appeared, a familiar symbol of crossed bone and wand. The sign of the order of Healers. Both sword and cross-sparkled, and Charlie and Draco felt their hair stand on end as bursts of energy shot back and forth between them.

Charlie felt warmth grow in his chest. He was suddenly very sure that while this magic was extremely powerful, it was by no means dark. Evil just couldn't feel as blissful as this. Charlie was so wrapped up in his enjoyment of the tingling warmth that he pulled Draco into his arms and held him to his chest.

Draco had to fight from moaning with pleasure. A voice in the back of his mind screamed and raged that this blood traitor, this Weasel, wannabe professor was embracing him. The rest of Draco couldn't help but ignore the angry voice. There was abundance of pleasure that was crowding his mind. Draco even found himself luxuriating in the smell of Charlie's robes.

_HIS SMELL?_

Draco reeled and fell out of Charlie's arms, breaking the connection and the sensations. Without a moment's hesitation, Draco fled the classroom and ran all the way down to the dungeons and the door to Snape's office.

Harry Potter was struggling, with quite a few things this morning. And an early Divination class was the last thing on his mind as he rushed up the ladder to Trelawney's loft.

It had started when he had woken up to find Neville longbottom, wearing nothing but a towel, curled up asleep in his arms. The strangest part had been how content he had felt at the moment. There was no shock, just the reassuring instinct that this situation was somehow right.

"Wake up Neville, I think we're already late for Breakfast." The boy stirred in his arms, and looked up at him drowsily.

"Oh. Good Morning Harry." Neville yawned and pulled himself out of Harry's arms. A moment later, he turned back around, staring at Harry with a look of terror on his face. "What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. But nothing too terrible if all that happened was us falling asleep in the same bed." Harry said, feeling a calm, whose origins he couldn't identify. "Whatever it was, it's in the past, and we both seem fine now, so lets get dressed and go see if we can get some food and see where our first class is."

The pair of Gryffindors had not made it downstairs in time for breakfast, and only just managed to catch professor McGonagall leaving the hall to collect their schedules.

"Not the best way to begin a very important year young men." Her voice was cross but her eyes were gentle, as was her way in dealing with the young Gryffindors who she was responsible for. "Now hurry up to the divination tower, and do not even think of telling professor Trelawney that I am the cause of your tardiness." She scolded. After decades of working with young wizards, Minerva's job was sometimes too easy. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor." The boys stammered.

In the end Trelawney hadn't made much fuss at all.

"Of course I'd known for weeks that two of my O.W.L. students would be tardy to our first class, but which students specifically was veiled from my Sight, as happens all to often when gazing into the beyond. " She rasped at the boys. "Now quickly take your seats. We have much to do this year, and the fates have yet to pass judgment on which of you will pass this O.W.L. "

Harry saw Ron, staring almost longingly at him through the haze of incense. The empty cushion next to him was proof that he'd been saving a place for Harry. Under normal circumstances, Harry wouldn't have even thought about whether or not he would sit with his best mate, but after the strange events from the prior night, he hesitated.

He wanted very much to sit with Ron, forget about the slightly embarrassing events in the shower and go on to have as normal a year as was possible.

However, without even having to turn around, Harry knew that Neville was waiting for him to lead the way to the table where they would sit together. Honestly, it sounded like a good plan. Whatever magic had manifested inside Neville and him was pushing at his mind and compelling him to keep Neville nearby.

With a jerk, Harry found himself walking forward and sitting on a cushion at the edge of the room, placing himself between Neville and every other person in the room. He saw Ron shoot him a confused look, and then turn away.

_Is he that upset over where I sit_? Harry thought.

It actually wasn't that surprising. Harry knew Ron was prone to random bursts of idiot temper. He was both jealous and stubborn, but he was Harry's first and best friend and deep down he was loyal to a fault. They had patched everything up after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, they would easily get over this.

Just before Harry's mind could turn over and start reanalyzing Ron's feelings, a warm peaceful glow filled him. All the anxiety fled from his mind, and he almost hummed at the relief. Looking down he saw Neville's hand resting gently on his own.

There was definitely something strange going on.

Professor Trelawney began speaking to the class in her low whispery voice, and Harry resigned himself to a Troll on his Divination O.W.L. and instead thought of the mark on his arm, the similar one on Neville's and a half remembered nightmare. He also thought about how much of a shame it would be to be late to two classes on the first day of term, but talking to Dumbledore about this seemed a bit more urgent than History of Magic.

Despite the rather large stack of paperwork sitting on his desk amongst his various magical instruments, Dumbledore was seated with his wonderful friend Nicholas Flamel on the small balcony at the back of his office playing a game of exploding snap.

"You know I've never been fond of waiting, Albus." Nicholas said with an exasperated sigh.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he purposefully hesitated before laying his next card.

"Patience is not a virtue often associated with a sword, Nicholas, but it is necessary."

Leaning back Dumbledore took in the appearance of his old friend once again. Old was actually not the proper word to use for his friend. Nicholas Flamel was the only known creator of a Philosopher's stone and, thanks to it's elixir, Flamel had stopped aging physically at thirty five. However, he had stopped taking the elixir three years ago when he'd destroyed the stone at Dumbledore's request. His eccentric moustaches had begun to grey, as had the hair at his temples.

"What is it?" Flamel asked suddenly, noticing the appraising stare. " Bit of jam on the moustache?" Before Dumbledore could say a word, a small mirror had been summoned, along with a small grooming kit, presumably for Nicholas' prized facial hair.

Dumbledore chuckled as he watched his bond brother, quickly comb and wax his moustache.

"Better?" He asked after he'd finished and vanished the kit and mirror.

"Astronomically." Dumbledore replied. The Headmaster opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by a cry from Fawkes within the office. Someone was coming up the stairs to his office. " Excuse me old friend, but I do believe the waiting might be done."

Dumbledore sat at his chair, just as Severus Snape opened the door.

"Albus." The potions master started, with a slight nod. "I've been approached by a student about a strange magical occurrence between himself and one of our newest professors."

"Did someone hex poor Dolores already?" Dumbledore's face was stone set serious, but his eyes twinkled mischievously. Any of the other professors would have risen to the joke, but Snape had never been known for his sense of humor.

"It was Weasley. Draco Malfoy came to me directly after his first class. He described, rather hysterically, two white marks on his and Weasley's arms, and a magically charged embrace. I obviously recognized the signs of a magical binding and have isolated Draco in my office and come to you."

It took a moment for Dumbledore to speak. He removed his half-moon spectacles, and softly rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you for coming to me with this Severus. You've done everything by the book." The headmaster took another moment, replaced his spectacles and looked up at his potions master turned spy.

"I must begin by apologizing to you. The explanation that follows is dreadfully vague and will only leave you with more questions. "

"I have been working for you for many years now Albus, I'm sure I'm quite used to you're mysterious ramblings and you're inclination to withhold information." Snape drawled.

"Yes, yes of course. However, this secrecy is much larger than myself, and the magic involved will not let too much information out too early. I doubt I could tell you everything if I tried."

"So you do know everything?" Snape was growing slightly restless during this preamble. He had a class waiting and the curiosity gnawing at the back of his mind wasn't helping either.

" I very much doubt that anyone knows everything, my boy. But this is what I know of the matter. Last night a very ancient magic was awoken for the first time in three generations. The world is tipping out of balance, as it tends to do every now and then, and four wizards have been chosen to stand against whatever evil is approaching, and no, Severus, this is beyond the Dark Lord." Snape quickly closed his mouth and waited for Dumbledore to continue.

" You must not speak of this with Draco until the bond has been fully established. I know you care deeply for your godson, but while he may be in a grave amount of danger, it does not stem from his bond. It is paramount that the brotherhood finds and establishes their bond themselves, lest we contaminate it. "

"As you wish, Headmaster." Snape muttered quietly. He bowed stiffly and made for the door.

"And Severus, " Dumbledore called. Snape stopped in the doorway and turned to see Dumbledore smiling crookedly. " Send Draco up to me, please."


End file.
